What's Worth Fighting For
“The 10th Leper” A sermon by the Rev. Dr. Hilary J. Barrett Preached at Pleasantville United Church of Christ, October 9, 2016 Psalm 66:1-12; Luke 17:11-19 “As soon as healing takes place, go out and heal somebody else.” Maya Angelou
Our son, Sam, turned 25 at the end of August. In many ways he’s all grown up. He lives in Brooklyn – with all the other millennials in New York City – in a third-floor walk-up in with three other guys, one girl, and two bathrooms. He’s working at a public relations firm in lower Manhattan, located 1,056 feet from Ground Zero – but who’s counting? And what’s even more unbelievable is that he’s actually able to support himself. We don’t even have to pay his cell phone bill anymore. So you would think that when his birthday rolled around on August 23rd it would have been a day of celebration. And it was – of course – because there is no day when we do not celebrate the gift of that boy in our lives. But it is also the day when the clock starts ticking. Because on that day Sam will receive birthday cards: from his Grandma Evie, his Auntie Claudia, and his Uncle John. And that’s just my side of the family. Then there are the cards from Rob’s side of the family: Aunt Susan, Grandma Janet and Grandpa David. Ordinarily these remembrances of Sam’s nativity would be good news. But for me, his fretful over-functioning mother, it’s just an opportunity to worry. Will he remember? Do I need to remind him? How long will it take before my mother begins to ask, “Did Sam receive the card I send him for his birthday? I only ask because I haven’t heard anything from him lately.” Back when Sam was 4 and 5 years old, I used to dread these moments. The moment when you find out whether all the training has been for naught; whether anything at all has ‘taken’. There were a few years there when Sam was so well-trained all I had to do was say the words, “What do you say?” and he would instantly begin thanking someone for something – even though he might not exactly be sure what he was thanking them for. Now – at the age of 25 – Sam’s all grown up. He’s out of my orbit; beyond my control. All I can do is use what remains of my influence. And it’s then when I send him a text that sounds something like this: “Buddy, do me a favor. Call your grandma and thank her. I’m dyin’ here.” One of the earliest social transactions we labor to teach our children is the “please” and the “thank you.” And there’s a reason for that. Because, for all the ways our culture is changing, gratitude -1-
continues to be an important measure of human character. “Life is out of joint when we fail to give thanks.”1 There are people in this world who “receive and receive and receive…without ever saying ‘Thank you’.” And we know who they are. Through countless acts of ingratitude, they are the ones who have convinced themselves they are entitled to the world’s many benefits. They are the people who do not deign to say “please” and “thank you” to the wait staff at a restaurant; the ones who treat the housekeeping staff at a hotel like they are “less than” – like God simply created a certain class of people to do the work of serving. They are “the help.” I know a man who takes this “please” and “thank you” measure of character very seriously. He owns his own business and he tends to hire promising young adults. His company is one of those rarities – a place where they make a real investment in a young person; where – if a new hire is worth their salt they have a genuine hope of remaining for years to come. And because this company invests so heavily in these young adults they want to be careful about whom they hire. So part of the interview process is a dinner out. And while the young candidate doesn’t know this, the purpose of that dinner is solely to watch the way the way they relate to the wait staff. Gratitude and ingratitude – even today – are still an important measure of character. Our gospel lesson for this morning is a story about healing. It’s a story about 10 people who have leprosy, and all 10 are healed. But it is also – and importantly – a story about gratitude. It’s a story about who gives thanks and who does not – and what that signifies. Let’s listen again to the text given for our study this day: On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, ‘Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!’ When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?’ Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.” One of the little known facts about the Bible is that it has a lot to say about leprosy. In the book of Leviticus there are two whole chapters dedicated to it. Two chapters focused entirely on how to 1 Attributed to Reformed ethicist, Louis Smedes, in Scott Hoezee’s commentary, http://cep.calvinseminary.edu/sermon-
starters/proper-23c/?type=the_lectionary_gospel
-2-
recognize the condition and what to do if you have it. The main point being that: if you have it – stay away from the community. If you ever get cured of it, go to the priest to verify that you are cured and only then will you be allowed back into relationship with others. According to Leviticus, if you had leprosy, this is what your life would look like: 45
The person who has the leprous disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head be disheveled; and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, “Unclean, unclean.” 46 He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease; he is unclean. He shall live alone; his dwelling shall be outside the camp. (Leviticus 13:45-46) In the Middle Ages, those who had leprosy couldn’t walk through towns and villages without ringing a bell to warn all in their path and shouting “Unclean! Unclean!” For most of us, it would be hard to imagine what this kind of quarantine would have been like. Cut off from family and friends; cut off from normal community life; forced to live at the margins of society; the isolation made even worse by the widespread belief that your condition was a sign you were being punished for you sins. Small wonder then that, when the lepers in this story are cured, they are in a fierce hurry to meet the Temple priest and get back to their homes and families. Ten people cry out for mercy. Ten people are healed. Nine follow Jesus’ instructions to go and show themselves to the priest. But one surprises him – and that one is a Samaritan. We’ve met Samaritans before in Luke’s gospel: back in chapter 10 there was the story of the Good Samaritan, and here in chapter 17 the story we read this morning. It seems like Luke has a softspot for Samaritans but it actually goes deeper than that. Luke knows that Jesus is Lord of all. He knows that Jesus came to save all people. And he shows this in many and varied ways throughout his gospel. Luke traces Jesus’ lineage all the way back to Adam to signal Jesus’ universal mission. He includes stories in his gospel showing that “women have a new place of importance among the followers of Jesus.”2 He promises that Gentiles would have an opportunity to accept the gospel – something brought to fruition in Luke’s second book, The Acts of the Apostles. And he includes stories that commend Samaritans, members of a despised ethnic group. And this is highly significant, because in Jesus’ day, the “relationship between Samaritans and Jews…was conflicted and sometimes violent.”3
2 Metzger, Bruce M. and Roland E. Murphy, eds. Introduction to the Gospel According to Luke, from the Oxford Annotated
Bible with Apocrypha, (New York: Oxford University Press), 76 NT. 3 Audrey West, Working Preacher, https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3029
-3-
Long before this time, Samaritans and Jews had been one people. But “changes and tensions [caused] by exile and return put them at odds [with one another] regarding beliefs about scripture, worship, what it [meant] to be holy…”4 For the culture Jesus grew up in, there was no such thing as a “good” Samaritan. The enmity was so strong that ordinary Jews, traveling from Judea to Galilee, would bypass Samaria altogether, rather than contaminate themselves by passing through Samaritan territory. They would literally cross over the Jordan River to the east, travel through the region called the Transjordan, and then cross back over the river again so they could avoid Samaria altogether. So this morning’s story – the story Luke takes pains to include – is a real kicker. Because here is a person with two strikes against him: he is a leper and he is a Samaritan, and he is also the only one of ten who turns around and remembers to give thanks. I do love the apostle Luke. The scriptures record that, “when [the man] saw that he was healed, [he] turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him.” He fell down on his knees, and lay outstretched on the ground before Jesus, giving thanks with his whole self. He changed the course of his life to return with gratitude and the result was that Jesus pronounces him “well”: your faith has made you well. And the Greek word for “well” here goes beyond a physical healing. It is the word for “salvation.” Your faith has made you whole; your faith has saved you. Ten lepers knew physical healing that day, but one found something more. One found salvation – because he recognized not only the gift but the Giver of that gift. He stopped to give God thanks and praise and received a whole new way of living in relationship to God; a way of living organized around gratitude.
To live a life organized around gratitude. That’s the model for spiritual health and maturity offered up to us in this story. Jesus asks: “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” It’s a rhetorical question and it comes directly to us. Who will we be like? Will we stop, mid-stride, to return and give thanks? Or will we journey on in our busy-ness, neglecting that most basic gesture of gratitude?
4 Audrey West, Working Preacher, https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3029
-4-
Will we count the many blessings we receive? Will we tell others about God’s love and risk changing their lives too? Will we change how we behave? Who we are? How we spend our time? Our money? Will we be like the 9 or like the 1? Martin Luther, the great reformed theologian of the 16th century, defined worship as “the tenth leper turning back.” True worship begins with true gratitude. It is the moment of turning back to give thanks for the beauty of the evening sky, for the smell of coffee in the morning, for the steady presence of a loved one, for the day we wake up and hurt a little bit less than the day before. Worship is that most basic of all things – built upon the “please” and “thank you” we learn as children – the “please” and “thank you” which are the source of all our prayers. Maybe the most important purpose of worship in our life is to make us more like the tenth leper than the other nine. Maybe it’s to make us more inclined to turn back and give thanks than trudge on in our busy-ness, ready to take yet another miracle for granted.
I’m glad to say that – at the age of 25 – Sam no longer really needs the reminder, “What do you say?” His timing could be better, but you’ve got to choose your battles. Ten were healed. Nine went on their way. One returned to give thanks. Are you that one? May it be so. Amen.
-5-
Our son, Sam, turned 25 at the end of August. In many ways he’s all grown up. He lives in Brooklyn – with all the other millennials in New York City – in a third-floor walk-up in with three other guys, one girl, and two bathrooms. He’s working at a public relations firm in lower Manhattan, located 1,056 feet from Ground Zero – but who’s counting? And what’s even more unbelievable is that he’s actually able to support himself. We don’t even have to pay his cell phone bill anymore. So you would think that when his birthday rolled around on August 23rd it would have been a day of celebration. And it was – of course – because there is no day when we do not celebrate the gift of that boy in our lives. But it is also the day when the clock starts ticking. Because on that day Sam will receive birthday cards: from his Grandma Evie, his Auntie Claudia, and his Uncle John. And that’s just my side of the family. Then there are the cards from Rob’s side of the family: Aunt Susan, Grandma Janet and Grandpa David. Ordinarily these remembrances of Sam’s nativity would be good news. But for me, his fretful over-functioning mother, it’s just an opportunity to worry. Will he remember? Do I need to remind him? How long will it take before my mother begins to ask, “Did Sam receive the card I send him for his birthday? I only ask because I haven’t heard anything from him lately.” Back when Sam was 4 and 5 years old, I used to dread these moments. The moment when you find out whether all the training has been for naught; whether anything at all has ‘taken’. There were a few years there when Sam was so well-trained all I had to do was say the words, “What do you say?” and he would instantly begin thanking someone for something – even though he might not exactly be sure what he was thanking them for. Now – at the age of 25 – Sam’s all grown up. He’s out of my orbit; beyond my control. All I can do is use what remains of my influence. And it’s then when I send him a text that sounds something like this: “Buddy, do me a favor. Call your grandma and thank her. I’m dyin’ here.” One of the earliest social transactions we labor to teach our children is the “please” and the “thank you.” And there’s a reason for that. Because, for all the ways our culture is changing, gratitude -1-
continues to be an important measure of human character. “Life is out of joint when we fail to give thanks.”1 There are people in this world who “receive and receive and receive…without ever saying ‘Thank you’.” And we know who they are. Through countless acts of ingratitude, they are the ones who have convinced themselves they are entitled to the world’s many benefits. They are the people who do not deign to say “please” and “thank you” to the wait staff at a restaurant; the ones who treat the housekeeping staff at a hotel like they are “less than” – like God simply created a certain class of people to do the work of serving. They are “the help.” I know a man who takes this “please” and “thank you” measure of character very seriously. He owns his own business and he tends to hire promising young adults. His company is one of those rarities – a place where they make a real investment in a young person; where – if a new hire is worth their salt they have a genuine hope of remaining for years to come. And because this company invests so heavily in these young adults they want to be careful about whom they hire. So part of the interview process is a dinner out. And while the young candidate doesn’t know this, the purpose of that dinner is solely to watch the way the way they relate to the wait staff. Gratitude and ingratitude – even today – are still an important measure of character. Our gospel lesson for this morning is a story about healing. It’s a story about 10 people who have leprosy, and all 10 are healed. But it is also – and importantly – a story about gratitude. It’s a story about who gives thanks and who does not – and what that signifies. Let’s listen again to the text given for our study this day: On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, ‘Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!’ When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?’ Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.” One of the little known facts about the Bible is that it has a lot to say about leprosy. In the book of Leviticus there are two whole chapters dedicated to it. Two chapters focused entirely on how to 1 Attributed to Reformed ethicist, Louis Smedes, in Scott Hoezee’s commentary, http://cep.calvinseminary.edu/sermon-
starters/proper-23c/?type=the_lectionary_gospel
-2-
recognize the condition and what to do if you have it. The main point being that: if you have it – stay away from the community. If you ever get cured of it, go to the priest to verify that you are cured and only then will you be allowed back into relationship with others. According to Leviticus, if you had leprosy, this is what your life would look like: 45
The person who has the leprous disease shall wear torn clothes and let the hair of his head be disheveled; and he shall cover his upper lip and cry out, “Unclean, unclean.” 46 He shall remain unclean as long as he has the disease; he is unclean. He shall live alone; his dwelling shall be outside the camp. (Leviticus 13:45-46) In the Middle Ages, those who had leprosy couldn’t walk through towns and villages without ringing a bell to warn all in their path and shouting “Unclean! Unclean!” For most of us, it would be hard to imagine what this kind of quarantine would have been like. Cut off from family and friends; cut off from normal community life; forced to live at the margins of society; the isolation made even worse by the widespread belief that your condition was a sign you were being punished for you sins. Small wonder then that, when the lepers in this story are cured, they are in a fierce hurry to meet the Temple priest and get back to their homes and families. Ten people cry out for mercy. Ten people are healed. Nine follow Jesus’ instructions to go and show themselves to the priest. But one surprises him – and that one is a Samaritan. We’ve met Samaritans before in Luke’s gospel: back in chapter 10 there was the story of the Good Samaritan, and here in chapter 17 the story we read this morning. It seems like Luke has a softspot for Samaritans but it actually goes deeper than that. Luke knows that Jesus is Lord of all. He knows that Jesus came to save all people. And he shows this in many and varied ways throughout his gospel. Luke traces Jesus’ lineage all the way back to Adam to signal Jesus’ universal mission. He includes stories in his gospel showing that “women have a new place of importance among the followers of Jesus.”2 He promises that Gentiles would have an opportunity to accept the gospel – something brought to fruition in Luke’s second book, The Acts of the Apostles. And he includes stories that commend Samaritans, members of a despised ethnic group. And this is highly significant, because in Jesus’ day, the “relationship between Samaritans and Jews…was conflicted and sometimes violent.”3
2 Metzger, Bruce M. and Roland E. Murphy, eds. Introduction to the Gospel According to Luke, from the Oxford Annotated
Bible with Apocrypha, (New York: Oxford University Press), 76 NT. 3 Audrey West, Working Preacher, https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3029
-3-
Long before this time, Samaritans and Jews had been one people. But “changes and tensions [caused] by exile and return put them at odds [with one another] regarding beliefs about scripture, worship, what it [meant] to be holy…”4 For the culture Jesus grew up in, there was no such thing as a “good” Samaritan. The enmity was so strong that ordinary Jews, traveling from Judea to Galilee, would bypass Samaria altogether, rather than contaminate themselves by passing through Samaritan territory. They would literally cross over the Jordan River to the east, travel through the region called the Transjordan, and then cross back over the river again so they could avoid Samaria altogether. So this morning’s story – the story Luke takes pains to include – is a real kicker. Because here is a person with two strikes against him: he is a leper and he is a Samaritan, and he is also the only one of ten who turns around and remembers to give thanks. I do love the apostle Luke. The scriptures record that, “when [the man] saw that he was healed, [he] turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him.” He fell down on his knees, and lay outstretched on the ground before Jesus, giving thanks with his whole self. He changed the course of his life to return with gratitude and the result was that Jesus pronounces him “well”: your faith has made you well. And the Greek word for “well” here goes beyond a physical healing. It is the word for “salvation.” Your faith has made you whole; your faith has saved you. Ten lepers knew physical healing that day, but one found something more. One found salvation – because he recognized not only the gift but the Giver of that gift. He stopped to give God thanks and praise and received a whole new way of living in relationship to God; a way of living organized around gratitude.
To live a life organized around gratitude. That’s the model for spiritual health and maturity offered up to us in this story. Jesus asks: “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” It’s a rhetorical question and it comes directly to us. Who will we be like? Will we stop, mid-stride, to return and give thanks? Or will we journey on in our busy-ness, neglecting that most basic gesture of gratitude?
4 Audrey West, Working Preacher, https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3029
-4-
Will we count the many blessings we receive? Will we tell others about God’s love and risk changing their lives too? Will we change how we behave? Who we are? How we spend our time? Our money? Will we be like the 9 or like the 1? Martin Luther, the great reformed theologian of the 16th century, defined worship as “the tenth leper turning back.” True worship begins with true gratitude. It is the moment of turning back to give thanks for the beauty of the evening sky, for the smell of coffee in the morning, for the steady presence of a loved one, for the day we wake up and hurt a little bit less than the day before. Worship is that most basic of all things – built upon the “please” and “thank you” we learn as children – the “please” and “thank you” which are the source of all our prayers. Maybe the most important purpose of worship in our life is to make us more like the tenth leper than the other nine. Maybe it’s to make us more inclined to turn back and give thanks than trudge on in our busy-ness, ready to take yet another miracle for granted.
I’m glad to say that – at the age of 25 – Sam no longer really needs the reminder, “What do you say?” His timing could be better, but you’ve got to choose your battles. Ten were healed. Nine went on their way. One returned to give thanks. Are you that one? May it be so. Amen.
-5-
